Song | Donald and Lydia |
Artist | John Prine |
Album | John Prine Live |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作词 : Prine | |
Lyrics:John Prine Music:John Prine | |
Small town, bright lights, Saturday night, | |
Pinballs and pool halls flashing their lights. | |
Making change behind the counter in a penny arcade | |
Sat the fat girl daughter of Virginia and Ray | |
(Spoken:) | |
Lydia | |
Lydia hid her thoughts like a cat | |
Behind her small eyes sunk deep in her fat. | |
She read romance magazines up in her room | |
And felt just like Sunday on Saturday afternoon. | |
Chorus: | |
But dreaming just comes natural | |
Like the first breath from a baby, | |
Like sunshine feeding daisies, | |
Like the love hidden deep in your heart. | |
Bunk beds, shaved heads, Saturday night, | |
A warehouse of strangers with sixty watt lights. | |
Staring through the ceiling, just wanting to be | |
Lay one of too many, a young PFC: | |
(Spoken:) | |
Donald | |
There were spaces between Donald and whatever he said. | |
Strangers had forced him to live in his head. | |
He envisioned the details of romantic scenes | |
After midnight in the stillness of the barracks latrine. | |
Repeat Chorus: | |
Hot love, cold love, no love at all. | |
A portrait of guilt is hung on the wall. | |
Nothing is wrong, nothing is right. | |
Donald and Lydia made love that night. | |
(Spoken:) | |
Love | |
The made love in the mountains, they made love in the streams, | |
They made love in the valleys, they made love in their dreams. | |
But when they were finished there was nothing to say, | |
'Cause mostly they made love from ten miles away. | |
Repeat Chorus: |
zuo ci : Prine | |
Lyrics: John Prine Music: John Prine | |
Small town, bright lights, Saturday night, | |
Pinballs and pool halls flashing their lights. | |
Making change behind the counter in a penny arcade | |
Sat the fat girl daughter of Virginia and Ray | |
Spoken: | |
Lydia | |
Lydia hid her thoughts like a cat | |
Behind her small eyes sunk deep in her fat. | |
She read romance magazines up in her room | |
And felt just like Sunday on Saturday afternoon. | |
Chorus: | |
But dreaming just comes natural | |
Like the first breath from a baby, | |
Like sunshine feeding daisies, | |
Like the love hidden deep in your heart. | |
Bunk beds, shaved heads, Saturday night, | |
A warehouse of strangers with sixty watt lights. | |
Staring through the ceiling, just wanting to be | |
Lay one of too many, a young PFC: | |
Spoken: | |
Donald | |
There were spaces between Donald and whatever he said. | |
Strangers had forced him to live in his head. | |
He envisioned the details of romantic scenes | |
After midnight in the stillness of the barracks latrine. | |
Repeat Chorus: | |
Hot love, cold love, no love at all. | |
A portrait of guilt is hung on the wall. | |
Nothing is wrong, nothing is right. | |
Donald and Lydia made love that night. | |
Spoken: | |
Love | |
The made love in the mountains, they made love in the streams, | |
They made love in the valleys, they made love in their dreams. | |
But when they were finished there was nothing to say, | |
' Cause mostly they made love from ten miles away. | |
Repeat Chorus: |
zuò cí : Prine | |
Lyrics: John Prine Music: John Prine | |
Small town, bright lights, Saturday night, | |
Pinballs and pool halls flashing their lights. | |
Making change behind the counter in a penny arcade | |
Sat the fat girl daughter of Virginia and Ray | |
Spoken: | |
Lydia | |
Lydia hid her thoughts like a cat | |
Behind her small eyes sunk deep in her fat. | |
She read romance magazines up in her room | |
And felt just like Sunday on Saturday afternoon. | |
Chorus: | |
But dreaming just comes natural | |
Like the first breath from a baby, | |
Like sunshine feeding daisies, | |
Like the love hidden deep in your heart. | |
Bunk beds, shaved heads, Saturday night, | |
A warehouse of strangers with sixty watt lights. | |
Staring through the ceiling, just wanting to be | |
Lay one of too many, a young PFC: | |
Spoken: | |
Donald | |
There were spaces between Donald and whatever he said. | |
Strangers had forced him to live in his head. | |
He envisioned the details of romantic scenes | |
After midnight in the stillness of the barracks latrine. | |
Repeat Chorus: | |
Hot love, cold love, no love at all. | |
A portrait of guilt is hung on the wall. | |
Nothing is wrong, nothing is right. | |
Donald and Lydia made love that night. | |
Spoken: | |
Love | |
The made love in the mountains, they made love in the streams, | |
They made love in the valleys, they made love in their dreams. | |
But when they were finished there was nothing to say, | |
' Cause mostly they made love from ten miles away. | |
Repeat Chorus: |